Page 12 of What We Broke

“Right thing for who?” I snap.

I hear his impatient breath through the phone. “You love him, Leo. This is stupid.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am,” he counters. “But I can’t just sit by and let you make the biggest mistake of your life.”

I ignore his concerns, because they aren’t my concerns and they aren’t valid. I need this divorce. I need away from Jesse. Away from the reminder of everything we lost. Away from this life he thinks we can have.

“Just let it go, Gio. This is none of your business anyway,” I spit out. “Isn’t that why you sided with him and kicked me out of your house? Agreed with him that I should go home, huh?”

“Fuck you,” he growls. “I let you stay with me for six months. Six fucking months of you barely making it to work. Six fucking months of you hiding out.” He catches his breath before continuing. “And my house is yours, always, Leo. But you have a husband and a daughter waiting for you every night in that big, beautiful, this-is-what-dreams-are-made-of house of yours, and you insist on fucking burning it all to the ground. And for what?” He lowers his voice, calming down, hoping to help me find reason. “I know you’re hurting, but so are they. Hurt and heal with your family, Leo.”

“Like I said,” I say emotionlessly. “It’s a bribe. Jesse and I are done.”

* * *

“Mr. Ricci-Hunt,”the receptionist calls out. “Dr. Sosa says you can go on in.”

I glance around the empty waiting area. Jesse’s unusually late, and discomfort takes root in my stomach.

“I’m waiting for my…” I stall at calling him my husband, and the lady behind the desk offers me a sad smile. Obviously aware of why people attend her office.

“Your husband,” she finishes for me “That’s fine. Dr. Sosa is happy to start without him.”

Feeling unsettled, I make my way through to our therapist’s office.

Dr. Sosa is a woman closer to my age than I’d like her to be. In her mid-thirties, with her pencil skirt, and short, brown-haired bob, she seems so put together, it makes old inadequacies creep to the surface.

It’s not her intention to make me feel this way. In fact, if I had chosen a therapist myself, it would’ve been her. But old wounds never really heal, and I haven’t felt this insecure and uncertain of myself in such a long time.

“Hey, Leo,” she greets, a wide smile on her face. “It’s so great to see you again.”

Nodding, I take a seat on the single chair. “Uh, Jesse doesn’t seem to be here yet.”

“Yes,” she confirms, taking a seat and rearranging a leather folder on her lap. “He called and said he would be a little late.”

“Oh. Okay.” I try to school my features, hiding the unwarranted irritation that surges at the thought of him choosing to tell our therapist instead of me.

“Plus,” she starts, “you and Jesse gave consent when it comes to either of you talking to me without the other present.”

My back shoots ramrod straight. Consent or not, I did not sign up for this.

“I don’t have anything to say,” I tell her. “Jesse is the one who wants us to be here.”

“But you’re the one who wants the divorce,” she counters.

I grind my teeth, hating the ambush.

“This is your third session and you’ve yet to say anything about why you want a divorce,” she says. “You’ve yet to say anything about anything, really, and I would’ve thought you’d be here with an argument ready.”

She’s probing, trying to bait me, but I’m not going to bite. I’ve had plenty of practice with Jesse. Plenty of practice avoiding the truth and keeping the pain to myself.

As far as I was concerned, the one reason I did have was enough. “We lost our baby,” I say flatly, despite the agony that rips through my heart at the mere mention of Lola. “I don’t want to move forward. I don’t want to pretend we’re okay. I don’t want to do anything else besides miss my baby girl.”

My eyes fill with unshed tears and my throat tightens, the emotion thick and suffocating, but I remain still, my gaze on Dr. Sosa’s, refusing to give even an extra ounce of information.

“But I haven’t asked you to do any of those things.” Jesse’s voice is soft and gentle, a tone I haven’t earned nor do I deserve.

---